Summary: You’re caught in a time loop during the 11 days leading up to the RFA’s party unless you can do… what, exactly?
10+ Tiny spoilers for Day 7 of Zen’s route.
Note: In this fic, all of the characters are Korean (as they are in canon). Therefore they are in South Korea and speak Korean as their first language (even though the fic is written in English). TOEIC (Test of English for International Communication) is a standardized test that measures how capable an individual is in reading, writing, and speaking English.
Snip, snip. Brown
locks fall to the floor. It’s been a long time since you last cut your hair. It’s
been even longer since you tried cutting your own hair. But, well, you’ve got a lot of room for error now.
braid sits on the bathroom counter in front of you, the first casualty of your
scissors. It was much harder than you’d thought it would be to hack through the
thick bundle of hair, and your cuts were extremely choppy. In trying to straighten
it, your hair has been getting shorter and shorter – you could probably
consider it a pixie cut at this point.
Boy, it’s been quite the month for me, from the paxplosion of kaladesh through the actual release of the set this week, and quite the emotional roller coaster. Tides of support matched by tides of hate, lots of questions, comments, and reconsidered positions on where i stand with the set and the game as a whole.
Among the many comments my essay got, one particularly stood out to me. This person, whose name I’ve sadly forgotten, said “Kaladesh doesn’t take place in India, it takes place in Silicon Valley”.
When I first read this, I laughed out loud, because I live in Silicon Valley, and the idea was completely hilarious. And then I stopped laughing, because I realized that it was true. Kaladesh really is my culture after all.
Summary: After a growing friendship with Bucky Barnes, someone who could really understand your nightmares, you began to fall in love. If only you would let him know. Preferably before it was too late.
Word count: 939
Warnings: None? Short part? Unedited?
With careful planning on everybody’s part, they set up a separate room for Bucky to remain in during the extraction of his trigger words. It would be a painful procedure. Each word had been linked to one or more of his memories and removing the word would most likely remove the memory with it. They wanted him to be as comfortable as he could be. Tony ordered whatever he thought a man would need for a week long torture, which explained the huge flat screen television and three bottles of wine present. The room was painted white, giving a hospital-like feel to it with the white sheets added.
It was hard on everyone, but more so on the two parties intimately involved. Nobody knew what exactly was entailed but occasionally Wanda would gasp or Bucky would let out a gut-wrenching scream. Weaved of red energy surrounded her hands and his head as she dived deeper, and deeper into his subconscious. Wanda did her best to limit her contact with any other memories. She untangled the mess inside his head until the words could not be detached anymore and then she obliterated the words and the memory or two intertwined with it. It took its toll and slowly drained her strength.
“Wanda,” Steve called from the doorway, watching the sleep deprived, weakening girl still working while Bucky slept. “You need to rest too. You’re killing yourself.”